


trying to keep warm when you’re the sun

by jackiednp



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Existential Angst, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-29 21:13:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15081851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackiednp/pseuds/jackiednp
Summary: dan’s nan dies and phil is the only one who can comfort him





	trying to keep warm when you’re the sun

**Author's Note:**

> tw: there’s a descriptive way of someone dying, not in a gruesome way but still detailed, and if that triggers you then please don’t read this. if you need any help, feel free to message me on tumblr or contact a [grief support](http://www.mygriefangels.org/grief-support-directory-.html)
> 
> if you still want to read but skip the “death” part, i put three stars (***) where it’s over
> 
> best read while listening to [Nana – the 1975](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=djO3smgNpKs)

****It smelled like old. That’s the only way Dan could describe it – old. Maybe, if he thought about it, he could also make out the sharp sting of hand sanitizer, which wasn’t very strange. There were probably four or five bottles of it spread throughout the room, and the nurses pumped at one of them every time they came into the room and every time they left.

Dan usually didn’t use hand sanitizer, but he’d started to. He didn’t really like the creeping coldness that spread over his palms, the way it dried into the cracks of his skin or the way he felt _too_ clean after it settled into his pores, but it felt wrong not to use it. Rude, almost.

He heard a door open behind him but he didn’t bother to turn around to look who it was. It barely took a second before he heard the familiar noise of the sanitizer squirting out into a palm, and a gentle voice that said, “Hey.”

A woman walked up from behind him, and he twisted his head to look at her. He smiled, a weird and twisted grimace of lips stretched into something that at least resembled one, but it didn’t matter. She knew why it was forced. They all did.

She walked around the bed that Dan was sat in front of and reached up to fiddle with one of the IV bags that hung on a metal hook. A nameplate on her chest read ‘ _Nurse – Sarah_ ’.

“Has she said anything?” she asked, her voice low.

Dan shook his head. “She’s only staring at the roof. I’ve tried talking to her, but it’s like she can’t hear me.”

His voice is thick and it comes out raspy. Anyone could tell that he’d been crying.

“It’s very common at this stage.”

Dan swallowed.

“Mary?” the nurse, Sarah, said with a clear voice as she leaned a little closer to the bed. “Mary can you hear me?”

Silence. Dan took a deep breath.

Sarah leaned back again but placed her hand gently over the wrinkly skin on the woman’s wrist. “Have you noticed anything different with her? Like, they way she breathes or how she looks or feels?”

“I… I’ve been counting between the, uhm, her breathing. Her breaths are uneven, and slow.”

Slow was an understatement. Dan had been trying to hold his own breath together with her, one of the few people in this world that he didn’t want to live without, but his lungs had started to burn after a while and forced him to suck in air again. Hers hadn’t.

Dan had been close to call the nurses almost three times, but then she’d taken a deep inhale as to tell him off.

The strongest woman Dan knew fought even in the last moments of her life, and there was nothing Dan could do to make anything better. 

“Any pauses of her breathing for more than a minute?”

“I think so.”

Sarah furrowed her brows as she let go of the woman’s wrist, and instead she turned fully towards Dan.

“I don’t mean to sound harsh or blunt, but it probably won’t be long now.”

Dan swallowed. “How.. how can you tell?”

Sarah glanced at the bed and then back at Dan, and after a few seconds of thinking she smiled softly at him. “We’ll talk just outside, it won’t take more than a minute.”

“I- I don’t want to leave her.”

“It’s better to tell you in private, it’ll only take a few seconds.”

Dan could feel his heart grow even colder than it had been before, but he nodded as he got up from the chair he’d been sat in. Sarah walked back around the bed, pumped at one of the bottles of hand sanitizers and left the room.

He took a step forward and placed one of the cold and limp hands in his own. It was small compared to his, her skin wrinkly and blue veins showing clear against the paleness, and Dan shuddered at how cold her skin felt. 

“I’ll be back in just a few seconds, Nan. Hold on, okay?”

He squeezed gently before placing her hand back down on the bed, carefully, turned around and walked out.

Sarah waited for him just outside the door, and with a quick sigh she pushed the door closed.

“We don’t know if she can hear us or not, since she’s unresponsive, but it’s general regulations that we don’t speak of things like this in front of patients. It can trigger unwanted anxiety and stress, just in case she can hear us.” she explained and Dan nodded.

“You asked me how I could tell?” Sarah asked then, as a way to confirm what she wanted to talk about, and Dan nodded again. “The pauses in her breathing is a telling sign, as well as her hands and feet being cold. When the body is preparing for death it shuts off the circulation to our limbs first to keep our vital organs alive, which is why her hands are cold and her skin is so pale.”

Dan could feel another stone fall into his gut.

“It’s other things, too. Her nose is whiter and her eyes are red, her pulse is weak, but it’s still very uncertain how long it will take. We can never say the exact time a patient will pass on and it can take minutes or days from this point.”

“Is there- is there no way, at all, to tell?”

“Well, usually the pauses between her breathings get longer. Eventually, the pauses can turn into minutes and then after one or two inhales another long pause will follow, which is a very telling sign. Sometimes, right before a patient passes, they will get this sudden spike in energy and someone that previously have been unreachable can speak or move for a short amount of time.”

Dan remembered that he’d read that somewhere, a long time ago, and he struggled to swallow. _This isn’t happening, not to me, not to her_ , he thought, as Sarah continued.

“It’s a good thing to talk to her. We don’t know if she can hear us but our minds are usually healthier than our bodies in this condition, so it’s very likely that she understands what you’re saying.” She reached forward and placed a hand on Dan’s upper arm. “Sometimes those we love are hanging on because they feel obliged to, so another thing you can do is to tell her that it’s alright to pass on. It’s a good way to get closure for you as well.”

It felt like his lungs were collapsing in on themselves but he nodded through gritted teeth.

“I’ll leave you two. If you need anything, just press the alarm. I’ll be here in a second.”

“Thank you.” Dan managed to mumble, and she he sent him a kind smile before nodding and turning around to leave.

Dan took a few deep breaths before he opened the door again and stepped into the room.

She was still alive; Dan could tell by the raspy breaths that escaped her mouth every minute or so, but they sounded fragile and weak. He took a seat again but scooted closer to her bed and closed his hands around hers.

“Oh, Nan,” he mumbled, “this will be okay. You’ll be okay.”

He swallowed.

“You know, I’ve never told you this, but that time I called you as I was grocery shopping and broke down, remember? You saved me, then. You’ve saved me so many more times than I can even count.”

Another raspy breath contradicted Dan’s creeping suspicion that it was over, and he let go of the breath he’d held.

“You don’t need to hold on just for me. I’m right here. I won’t leave you. It’s my turn to save you, now. It’s my turn to be the strong one and to let you go.” he said, a tear traveled down his cheek and continued down his neck. He didn’t bother wiping it away. “I love you. I’ll always love you. I’ll tell my children about you, just like I've always promised.”

And then, as Dan felt his heart melt into nothing, she moved. She hadn’t moved in hours, and the hand that was resting in between Dan’s two palms stretched out and she curled her fingers around Dan’s. She squeezed.

“It’s okay, Nan. It’s okay to let go. I’ll be here with you.” he smiled through his tears, and his heart was breaking in his chest as he continued. “Goodbye, Nan. Sleep tight, okay?”

And then, after what felt like hours and seconds at the same time, she stopped breathing.

 

***

 

His hands were shaking as he pressed the phone to his ear.

“Dan?” the voice on the other end answered almost immediately.

“She’s… she’s gone, Phil.” His voice was strangled and it cracked as he said Phil’s name.

“Fuck.” Dan heard how Phil moved on the other end. “Babe, where are you? Are you at the hospital?”

Dan nodded. It took a good few seconds for him to remember that Phil couldn’t see him, and he mumbled a broken, “Yeah.”

“I’ll be there in 10, yeah?”

“Okay.”

“I love you.” Dan was just about to hang up when Phil said it and even though his cheeks were damp from tears, his lips twitched a little.

“Please hurry.” he said, and then he hung up.

 

When Phil stormed into the hallway, his breathing forced from jogging and his hair messy from pulling at it, Dan was sat on a stiff chair with his hands folded in his lap.

His eyes were blank, focused on a dark spot on the floor, and they were rimmed red from crying. He was paler than Phil had ever seen him before and it took him by surprise, even though he’d been expecting the worst.

“Dan?” his voice was soft and careful as he crouched down next to him. Gently, he placed his hand on Dan’s thigh and squeezed just slightly. “Look at me.”

It took seconds, almost a minute, before Dan could tear his eyes away from that one point on the floor and let his eyes focus on Phil insead.

“She’s gone.” Dan croaked out, and then he broke down again.

Phil caught him before he hit the ground. His body went limp and heavy, losing all will to hold itself together anymore, and Phil held him in a weak attempt to not let all of Dan’s broken pieces fall apart. Dan heaved, his lungs unable to take in any air, and for a horrifying second Phil thought that Dan would die as well.

He didn’t, though, and Phil held him until his panic subsided.

Phil wasn’t sure how long it took until Dan’s panicked gasping turned into stifled sobs. It didn’t matter; nothing mattered but making Dan feel okay, but his feet had gone numb and the people passing them gave them strange looks. It must look strange, Phil thought, that two grown men were holding onto each other like their lives depended on it, but then again, they were at a hospital. People must’ve understood.

When Dan eventually sneaked out from Phil’s embrace, his face puffy and his eyes bloodshot, Phil knew that the worst was over. He’d known Dan for too long by then, been there through some of the worst, so he knew.

“Can we go home now?” Dan managed to whisper, and Phil only nodded.

He reached forward and let his thumb swipe away some of the wetness from his cheek, before getting up from the floor and holding out his hand to help Dan. It took some effort, Dan’s body still unable to follow his mind completely, but they made it. All the way down the dwindling corridors, elevators and crooked stairs, down through the entrance and out into the fresh midnight air that stung in Phil's lungs.

In the taxi on the way home, Dan rested his head on Phil’s shoulder. Their fingers were intertwined, Phil’s thumb caressing the back of Dan’s hand, and silent tears trickled down his cheek every now and again. Phil could feel them land on his shirt and creating damp spots in the crook of his neck.

 

The ringing of bells had died down long ago.

They were sat next to each other on the steps that lead up to the church doors, Dan’s hand resting in between Phil’s palms. He refused to let it go of him, not even when they’d walked up to the casket and placed a single rose each on the end; right behind the picture of a smiling Mary that Dan had taken long ago. Phil held onto Dan, through it all.

Honestly, he’d barely let go of Dan’s hand ever since he’d gotten the phone call.

Dan’s eyes were still puffy, his cheeks stale from the dried remains of salty tears, while Phil’s own had dried up by now. He’d cried too. With Dan, because of Dan, for Dan. Everyone cried at funerals but for different reasons – Phil mostly cried from the pain of seeing Dan so broken.

They hadn’t said a word in 30 minutes. Phil didn’t push it, he knew that Dan needed time and space without being alone, and he wanted to give him everything he could to make things better. He felt the pain radiate from Dan, the grief that pulsated through him with every heartbeat, and it made Phil feel slightly ill.

He’d cried every day since she passed, and the tears never seemed to run out.

Every now and again, Dan would look away from the graveyard and the gravel path before them, and turn his glance to Phil. They’d look at each other for seconds, speaking without words, and Dan would lean into Phil to seek some kind of comfort.

They were tired and hungry by the time they finally got up from the ground. Without many words, they agreed to take a walk through the graveyard before heading home and order take-out for the fifth time that week.

The sun hung low as they walked. It wasn’t a huge place, a small church with two different areas dedicated to gravestones on each side of it, but it was pretty. The rest of the Howell’s had been buried there as well, so it hadn’t been a difficult choice for Dan’s mum to take.

“She meant so much to me.” Dan said as they turned left behind the church, following the gravel path that took them through the graveyard. “I don’t even think she understood how much.”

“I think she did.” Phil mumbled. “And I think you meant just as much to her as she did to you.”

Dan was silent for a few moments. “Really?”

“Of course. Who else was there until the very end? You. No one else, just you.” Phil squeezed Dan’s hand. “She loved you, Dan.”

“And I loved her. So much.”

Dan was quiet for a few moments, thinking, before he swallowed and said, “Do you believe in life after death?”

“I don’t know.” Phil answered. “I don’t think I do, but at the same time I don’t want to believe that nothing happens.”

“I do. Or, I think I do.” Dan slowed his pace and Phil turned slightly so that he could look at him as he spoke. “I used to think that everything just went.. black. But now? I can’t picture Nan just _gone_. She’s still here, somewhere.. I can feel it.”

“I think that those who love us never leave us, no matter what happens after we stop breathing. They’ll always be alive in our hearts.”

Dan stopped walking completely, his eyes intently locked with Phil’s. “Are you afraid to die?”

“No.”

Dan raised his eyebrows. “Not at all?”

Phil shook his head. “It’ll just be like a really, really deep sleep. You’ll close your eyes and everything will go dark, like falling asleep, and then you just.. never wake up.”

“So just.. Black? Nothing? At all? No memories or dreams or eternity in damnation?”

“Nope. Just sleep.” Phil turned back around and started walking again, tugging at Dan’s hand. “Like a bear, y’know, in hibernation or whatever. But without the bear.”

Phil heard the soft chuckle that escaped Dan’s lips, and it made him smile. He hadn’t heard that noise in way too long.

“I hope it’s like that.” Dan mumbled as he came up in the same pace as Phil. “I’m afraid it won’t, though. That we’re all just doomed to float around in a dark ‘nothingness’ for eternity, but I hope we won’t. I hope Nan isn’t. I hope she’s just asleep.”

“I think she’s having the best sleep of her life.”

“That’s– that’s just rude.” Dan said, in something that sounded a little too close to his old, usual voice. “You’re a dick.”

“I didn’t mean it like that!”

“You’re a dork. I love you, but you’re such a dork.” He said it simply, as a matter of factly, and Phil smiled.

“It’ll all make sense one day, y’know. It sucks right now and I know how it feels, but one day it won’t anymore.”

Dan was quiet as they walked, contemplating whether or not to argue or agree, but decided on the latter. He knew he would. Maybe not today, maybe not soon – but someday, and Phil would be there with him when that day came.

“Yeah.” he said as they arrived at the gate. He placed his hand on the warm iron and pushed it open.

Phil, who’d held onto his hand for the entire walk, let go of it as Dan stepped through the gate and walked towards their car. Something had shifted within him, Phil could tell. He wasn’t sure why, maybe on the way he held himself, the way the pain in his voice had subsided slightly or on the energy that sat between them; something was different.

Acceptance, he thought, it had to be that – and a warmth of calm spread inside him.

“I’m hungry, chinese or indian?” Dan asked as he opened the car door and flopped down on the passenger seat.

“Both?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Dan flashed him a grin as Phil turned the ignition, a smile that made his eyes crinkle and dimples showing. Phil hadn’t seen a genuine smile from Dan in such a long time, that he felt something inside of him fizzle to life at the sight.

With his foot still on the brake, he leaned to the side and placed his hand on the back of Dan’s neck, pulling him towards him as he pressed their lips together. The kiss wasn’t hungry or passionate, but Phil still felt his lungs give out when he pulled away.

“I love you,” he said, their foreheads still pressed together and their lips brushing against one another's, their eyes pressed close.

“Love you too.” Dan answered, his lips stretched into a faint smile. He could feel something swirl inside of him, a strange and buzzing feeling in his gut, and from feeling like nothing would be right in the world again – he suddenly felt that sting of hope tug his insides back to life.

He’d be okay, he knew that, because even if he’d lost his Nan, he still had Phil.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on tumblr! @retrohowell


End file.
